


Warlock and the Beast

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Crossover, Cursed, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a land of myth and a time of magic... one young man meets a cursed prince and has the chance to save him and change both of their lives forever. If he can get over how much of a prat he is.</p><p>... or The Beauty and the Beast crossover you never knew you wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue

“Guinevere, I do not have time for you now, I am going to my chambers for the night,” Arthur huffed as he strode past the pretty girl in shabby clothes who had approached him in the hallway. 

The young servant girl followed after him uneasily. “I’m sorry to disturb you, milord, but there is someone at the castle entrance. She demands an audience with you.”

“Demands?” Arthur repeated. “No one demands the prince. See to it that she is escorted out. It is much too late and I need my rest. I am rising early tomorrow to train with the knights.”

“But milord, she said that she would not leave until she saw you.” Gwen insisted.

Arthur reached the entrance to his bed chambers and stopped. “Then she can wait outside all week and I still will not come. I am much too busy; send Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine to escort her out.”

“Yes, milord,” Gwen bowed in respect and scurried down the hall. Arthur opened the door and stepped into his room.

His good servant, Gaius, was already inside waiting for him with a hot bath drawn. Arthur sighed gratefully and stood still as his manservant removed his clothes. As he dipped into the water, he let the worries of his day wash away until he completely forgot about princely duties and stubborn old women knocking at his castle doors. 

It wasn’t until after he had exited the bath and been dressed in his night clothes that a quiet knock came from his door. 

Ignoring it, Arthur slipped into bed, pulled the duvet up to his chin and succumbed to exhaustion.  
“Gaius,” he murmured tiredly, “you may leave.”

There was a pause, where he assumed the old man bowed in courtesy, before he heard the door open. He expected to hear it close, and for silence to follow, but instead he heard quiet whispers. His brows furrowed slightly, but he was otherwise too exhausted to open his eyes. 

From what he could tell, Gaius was talking to a female. They were both speaking in harsh tones, as if they were arguing. Finally, the quiet bickering stopped. However, Arthur had little time to bask in the silence because seconds later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes to procure the most menacing glare he could possibly muster in his tired state and directed it at the two people who were hovering over him. 

The first was Gaius, the one who had tapped him, and he looked quite serious but also a little silly with his eyebrow arched so high over his forehead that it was perched on his would-be hairline. The second was Gwen, standing behind him, all folded up like she wished she could disappear. Her eyes were glassy and her eyebrows were stitched so close together that he worried they would stay that way.

Arthur sat up once he realized that they would not go away just by staring at them.

“This better be good,” was all he said.

“The woman!” was all Gwen said in response.

Arthur groaned and fell back into his pillow. “Why do you keep on insisting on fetching me to fix it? What of the knights? They are perfectly capable of removing a feeble woman from the premises. What kind of servants are you, if you can’t take care of this one small matter? I am in the process of inheriting an entire kingdom! I have much more pressing responsibilities!”

“Sorry, milord!” Gwen pleaded. “I was sent to fetch you! They said that she would not leave until--”

“Until she has had an audience with me, I get it,” Arthur snapped and stepped out of bed. “Honestly, I have the most useless servants in all the world.”

The young prince stormed out of his chambers in a huff and towards the main entrance. Gwen and Gaius shared a look before quickly following behind him. Arthur did not care that he was still in his night clothes, and hoped that the meeting would be brisk. He wanted very much to sleep and forget about the whole ordeal.

When he made it to the main entrance, he was surprised to find that most everyone who worked at the castle was there. The only servant whose name he recalled was Mordred, the youngest servant, whom Gwen had recently taken under her wing. All of the knights were there, not just Gwaine and Percival. Leon, the head knight, was towards the front alongside Elyan, Lancelot, Owain, and Pellinor. There were at least a few dozen others that were knights-in-training that Arthur had not yet learned the names of. In fact, most of the people in the room were nameless faces to him.

As he approached the large, arching doorway, he got a better glimpse at his visitor. She was a haggard-looking woman with wrinkles carved into her face by time and long, stringy grey hair down to her waist. Her hands were spindly and speckled with liver spots. Her teeth were all but rotted away. She stood with a hunch and most of her body was concealed behind a dark, billowing cape. Her head was shadowed by the hood of the cape but it could not hide the sharpness of her eyes--the only portion of her body that did not look like they were decaying pre-mortem. They were quite beautiful and seemed to pierce through Arthur’s skin. He almost thought he saw a hint of gold flash in the deep blue color of her irises. 

“I was told that you requested my presence,” Arthur addressed curtly, not in the mood to beat around the bush.

The hag’s eyes seemed to survey him, but her voice sounded pleading. “Please, sire, I need a place to stay the night. I am a weary traveler. It is cold and the storm is harsh, I won’t last ‘til morning in these conditions.”

“Why would you seek a prince for this trivial matter?” Arthur asked. “Surely there are peasants willing to take you in.”

“No one will take me in,” the woman explained. “They have no room for me. You live comfortably; you have plenty of space to spare. One night is all I am asking! Please, I offer you this beautiful rose as payment for your kindness.”

The woman reached into her robes and pulled out a beautiful, red flower that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Arthur scoffed. “I have no time for your idle pleading. Wait the storm out in a stable if you have to, there is no need to approach royalty with such a petty complaint.”

“Please! I am begging you! I know I do not look like much, but there is more than meets the eye.”

Arthur quirked his eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“My dear, beauty is often found on the inside. You have to crack through the barrier to see it. I promise that offering me this favor has more benefits than are clear to you now.”

“Your riddles only make me even more impatient. If all you have to offer is a simple rose, then our conversation is over. I have many duties to overlook, and I need to be in top form to do so. I need my rest, and commoners are not permitted to enter my tower. You may wait the storm out in the stables if you must, but see to it that you are gone by morning.”

Anger flashed into the old woman’s eyes and she suddenly appeared to stand straighter, the bones in her back cracking back into place. When she talked again, the feebleness in her voice was gone, and it was instead replaced by a steely tongue.

“I see there is no love in your heart, Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur took a step back in surprise and his knights drew their swords out of their sheaths and stepped forward. The woman raised her hand towards them, which appeared young and healthy, and her eyes flashed gold. The next second, Arthur’s powerful knights were blown across the room by some unknown force. Arthur’s attention snapped back to the old woman just in time to see her transform into a beautiful young woman. Her long hair turned silky and black, billowing down her back in luscious waves. Her face was flawless and smooth, and her eyes finally matched her appearance. Arthur was entranced by her beauty before reality stepped in.

“A sorceress!” he cried, backing away. Sorceresses were very dangerous, testy creatures. He learned from his father that one could never be trusted.

“You have failed your test, Pendragon,” the sorceress exclaimed. “I am Morgana, the High Priestess. I have been sent to challenge your ways, and you have proven to lack compassion. You are a handsome man, but on the inside you are an ugly beast.”

The witch advanced and Arthur flinched away, running to his knights who were starting to recover from the attack. He grabbed a sword from one of them and pointed it at the intruder.

Morgana stopped in her tracks and cocked her head in thought. “What a grand idea. You’re an ugly beast on the inside… let’s give you an exterior to match.”

Arthur recoiled in fright. “Get back, you witch!” he exclaimed, thrust the sword forward.

Before he even reached her, the sorceress muttered words in a tongue unknown to him and he fell to the floor in pain. He felt his bones stretching, breaking, and reforming. The hair on his arms and legs was growing and his muscles were bulging. His head was on fire and he clawed at the floor as he grew so tall and large that his clothes tore off. The ground soon became shredded as his fingers turned into claws, and his screams of agony turned into wild roars. His beautiful, golden hair transformed into a mottled brown that covered his entire body. His handsome face became a horror of fangs, menacing horns, and the snout of an animal. His once fit and muscled body became a monstrosity. 

The rest of the castle stared in fright as he scrambled pathetically to find a mirror. Once he located a surface shiny enough to reflect his appearance, he roared in agony at the sight of his atrocious body. 

A single rose fell to the floor next to him, and he tore his eyes away from his reflection to look up desperately at Morgana.

“If you do not fall in love with somebody who loves you back by the time the last petal falls from that flower, you will be stuck in this form forever,” she explained.

“No! Please! Change me back!” Arthur cried desperately, a growl chasing after every syllable. “Change me back! How could anyone ever love this? Please don’t do this to me!”

“Your pleas are as useless to me as mine were to you,” Morgana answered coldly. “I gave you a chance to prove yourself, and you failed. This is your punishment.”

Arthur’s ears drooped and his new tail curled beneath his legs as he gave up all hope. His servants and knights cowered at the corners of the room in terror. Morgana’s eyes snapped up, glancing around at all of them. 

“As for you all, you will cursed until the prince has found true love as well.”

The crowd shouted in fear as Morgana raised her hands, incanting another spell. Some tried to escape, but it was too late for them. 

The entire castle’s staff had transformed into household items. There were kitchen utensils, cleaning supplies, and decorative pieces everywhere, able to walk about and carry out conversation, but they no longer looked human. 

In a flash, Morgana was gone, leaving behind a castle full of transformed people. Arthur, in the middle of the room, did not get up from his heap on the ground for a long, long time. The staff fretted over him for a while, but were overall too terrified of him and still getting used to their own new bodies to do much about it. When he finally did get up, he did not say a word, and gingerly took the rose off the ground, which glowed slightly with magic, and brought it up to his chambers.

Everything was just as he had left it. He placed the flower underneath a glass vase on a circular table in the center of the room. It floated underneath the glass in midair.

Another glance around the room brought Arthur’s eyes to a portrait of himself painted not too long before the incident. In a fit of anger, he swiped at the painting and left a trail of claw marks in his wake. Feeling slightly satisfied by his aggression, he began tearing apart his room, screaming out in rage. He did not stop until the only part of his room still intact was the circular table with the rose in the glass vase on top. He sat in front of it and howled.


	2. A Provincial Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turning musical numbers into dialogue is a lifestyle.

Merlin woke up in the early hours of the morning to head to the library. He had a book to return that had been a lovely read. Without much else to do, he read it in a single day. He was excited to get his hands on a new book that would hopefully take his mind off of his boredom. He crossed the bridge that connected his house to the rest of the town and entered the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. The baker opened shop for the day and carted out a whole barrel of bread and rolls to sell. He waved a hello to Merlin as he walked by.

“What’s that you got there?” he asked inquisitively, organizing through his stocks. 

“Oh, it’s a book that I just finished reading!” Merlin responded eagerly, “It’s about a beanstalk, and there’s this giant--”

“That’s nice,” the baker replied distractedly, “Marie! The baguettes! Hurry up!”

Merlin shrugged and walked away, knowing that he had lost the attention of the good-intentioned baker. He continued down the road and could hear the whispers all around him as the townspeople gossiped about him. 

Ever since he moved to Camelot from his hometown in Ealdor some months ago, curious gazes seemed to follow him wherever he went. The townspeople thought him and his father to be quite odd, mostly because his father was rarely seen while Merlin kept to himself and always had his nose in a book. A mere commoner being able to read was strange enough, but it seemed like it was all Merlin did. He didn’t have a job, and his father never left the house, so no one knew how they were able to sustain themselves. Rumors spread about the two of them, and Merlin generally ignored the speculation.

Merlin walked into the bookstore and the bell jingled on the door to alert the bookkeeper of his arrival.

“Good morning, Merlin!” Geoffrey greeted.

“Good morning!” Merlin responded cheerfully, handing him his copy of _Jack and the Beanstalk_. “I’ve come to return the book I’ve borrowed.”

He walked towards the small wall of shelves that contained all the books the town had to offer. It wasn’t much, and Merlin had basically read all of them in the short time he had been there. 

“Finished already?” Geoffrey sounded surprised, but Merlin had finished nearly all of the books he had taken out in just a day.

“I couldn’t put it down,” Merlin explained, examining the shelves. “Do you have anything new?”

“Not since yesterday,” Geoffrey chuckled, placing the book Merlin had just returned on the counter.

“That’s alright,” Merlin shrugged, running his fingers through the spines of the books. “I’ll borrow… this one.”

He pulled out a medium-sized book with a blue cover and gold lettering that ornately spelled _Beauty and the Beast_. 

“That one?” Geoffrey took the book and adjusted his glasses to make sure he was reading the title right. “But you read it twice!”

“It’s my favorite!” Merlin exclaimed. “A prince in disguise, magic spells, a happy ending…!”

“If you like it all that much, its yours!” Geoffrey handed it back to him.

“But--” Merlin startled, but Geoffrey wouldn’t let him finish.

“I insist!” He led Merlin to the door.

“Well, thank you!” Merlin beamed, leaving the shop speechless. “Thank you very much!”

Geoffrey closed the door behind him and Merlin walked back out into the streets to the sound of more whispers. He had grown accustomed to ignoring them, so he merely opened up his new book and began reading. 

He passed by children playing games and adults hard at work, but he was too caught up in the world of his book to notice his surroundings. It helped him avoid the trouble of having to listen to the snide remarks made about him. 

He had been victim to the same judging glares in Ealdor and that had been why he and his father ultimately decided to move. The rumors had gotten too close to the truth for their liking, and people didn’t react calmly to people of their kind. ‘Their kind’ being warlocks. At least, his father used to be back when it was legal to practice magic, but Merlin had been born with magic and he never needed to learn it. It was hard to control sometimes, and the townsfolk of Ealdor began to catch on. It seemed like the bad stigma followed them to Camelot, however, and even though people didn’t know they were warlocks, they still found them quite strange.

Merlin chanced a look behind him and caught the people staring at him quickly look away. His heart sunk. His father told him to stay inconspicuous or else they would have to move again, and he didn’t want to put his father through that again.

If he was being honest with himself, however, he would admit that he longed to travel and see the world. Camelot was a very grandiose and beautiful city, yes, but the people were habitual and every day was the same tiresome routine. Merlin felt the magic under his skin itching to be released and his heart desperate for adventure.

“Hello, Merlin,” a deep voice greeted him.

Merlin looked up from his book to see Valliant approaching him, one of the strongest and most handsome men in Camelot according to the townspeople, and one of the most vain and self-centered men in all the world according to Merlin.

“Good morning, Valliant,” Merlin greeted in the friendliest tone he could muster before retreating back into the protection of his book.

The diversion didn’t last long. Valliant plucked the book right out of Merlin’s hands and began flipping through it critically.

“Can I have my book back please?” Merlin asked politely, and attempted to swipe it back but Valliant evaded the action by simply pulling away.

“How can you read this? It looks boring,” Valliant furrowed his eyebrows. “Merlin, you shouldn’t be wasting your time on useless activities such as this. You should be working hard like the rest of the men in Camelot!”

Valliant tossed the book to the ground and it landed in a puddle of dirty water. Merlin scrambled to pick it up but Valliant stepped in front of it, blocking his passage. Merlin looked up angrily at him. He could blast him out of the way with just a thought, but he restrained himself. It would only end badly for him and his father. 

“Of course, you wouldn’t have to do any of that if you found someone who could take care of you… like _me._ ”

Merlin swerved around Valliant and retrieved his book. He stood up and began cleaning it off with the corner of his worn-out jacket.

“What are you implying?” Merlin opted to play dumb, hoping the subject would be dropped.

“Come on, Merlin! Look at you. You’re as dainty and pretty as a girl. Someone like you wouldn’t last a day doing men’s work. I don’t see how you or your father can support yourselves with neither of you on the job.”

“My father has a job! He’s a wood carver.”

“Ha! And how well does that work out for him? Merlin, I can support you the way that old man can’t.” Valliant put an arm around his shoulder.

“Don’t say that about him!” Merlin jerked away from him.

“My apologies, Merlin,” Valliant said without sounding sorry at all, and bowed. “Say, why don’t we stroll around town together? I can show you the battle ring where I hold the record for most achievements in contests of strength.”

“That sounds… great, Valliant, maybe some other time.” Merlin retreated back. “I have to get back to my father. He’s waiting for me.”

At that moment, Gilli scurried beside Valliant from somewhere down the street where he was attempting to woo some ladies. Wherever Valliant was, Gilli was never too far behind. “Your father? He’s nothing but a crackpot!”

Both men laughed, but Merlin stomped his foot. “Don’t say that! My father is a brilliant man!”

Valliant stopped laughing but Gilli continued. Suddenly, an explosion was heard from behind Merlin and he startled, wasting no time in running towards the source of the noise: his home. He heard Valliant start laughing all over again and Gilli was laughing even harder, but he ignored them and eventually their voices faded into the distance as he approached the front door to his house.

He fanned the smoke away from his face as he entered the small interior of the house. There was a fire in the corner of the room and he quickly snuffed it out with his magic. He then used his magic to clear the smoke away as well. Once it was gone, he could see his father’s form lying next to the source of the fire, coughing and wheezing. He rushed to his side.

“Apparently my magic’s getting a little rusty,” Balinor wheezed, and stood up with Merlin’s aid.

“What happened?” Merlin asked.

“I was trying finish carving this statue for the fair, so I tried to use some magic to speed up the process… and I guess it back-fired,” Balinor admitted.

“ _Father,_ ” Merlin chided. “I thought you said not to use magic for trivial things like that.”

“I know,” Balinor slumped. “But the fair is tomorrow morning, and I’m still not halfway finished.”

They both looked towards the charred lump of wood on the ground next to them.

“Now its ruined,” Balinor lamented. “I can’t go to the fair with _that_.”

“But you were going to sell that! We need the money, father. You _have_ to go to the fair,” Merlin urged.

“With what?” Balinor asked. “It’s been reduced to nothing.”

Merlin sighed. “If I can fix it, will you work really hard to finish it by tonight?”

“What? How could you possibly fix that?” Balinor asked.

Merlin didn’t answer, he only stepped forward towards the burned wood sculpture and extended his hands. He closed his eyes and focused hard. He felt the magic coursing through his veins and out through his fingertips. His eyes snapped open and they glittered gold. The lump began to shimmer and started to loose its greyish-black appearance. Instead, it returned to its original, un-charred appearance and seemed to grow larger and resemble the half-finished carving that is was before the accident.

Balinor gaped. “How did you do that?” 

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… thought about it.”

“No incantations, no spell book to reference… Merlin, you never cease to amaze me.”

Merlin smiled shyly. “Thanks, father. I just wish I didn’t have to hide my skills.”

Balinor patted Merlin on the back. “Me too, Merlin. But you know how the King feels about magic, especially after what happened to his son.”

Merlin nodded. The townspeople told stories about how almost five years ago, the prince had fallen victim to a horrible curse caused by a sorceress who hated King Uther. No one knew what the curse was that plagued the prince, nor where he was now, or if he was even alive. All anyone knew for certain was that he was sixteen the last time he was seen. If he were still alive, he would be about twenty years old, which was a year older than Merlin.

The King was out on a hunting trip when the sorceress attacked the castle, and apparently she had left everything in ruin. No one was spared. In his despair, he and the servants and knights that had accompanied him on the trip abandoned the castle and rebuilt a new one. It was less splendid, but it was closer to the town and over time it was as if the old castle had never existed at all.

The old castle did, in fact, still exist and it was located deep within the forest right on the outskirts of Camelot. It was covered by overgrown shrubbery that had not been tended to in years, and it had an ominous aura about it. No one dared go near it, lest they never be heard from again.

Merlin understood that King Uther had dealt with much sorrow due to sorcery. His wife had also supposedly been killed by a sorceress, but Merlin wished he could somehow prove that not all magic was bad. He knew it was too risky, but living in constant fear that he or his father might get caught at any moment was agonizing. 

Merlin looked towards his father who was smiling gratefully at him. He mustered a smile back.

“Now get to work on that carving now. I don’t want all that effort to restore it to be for nothing. I’m expecting it to be finished by the time the sun sets!” Merlin chastised.

“Yes, sir,” Balinor chuckled and got back to work. “Thank you, son.”

Merlin picked up his book and made his way to the rocking chair in the corner of the room, where he planned to read for the rest of the day. His father got back to work and eventually the sounds of whittling and carving were drowned out of Merlin’s ears as he escaped into a world entirely of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case the names are unfamiliar, Valliant is the knight that was in one episode and he used a magic shield that turned into snakes to kill his opponents. And Gilli was a sorcerer that pretended to be a knight and tried to kill Uther and he also used magic to fight his opponents. They are playing the part of Gaston and LeFou.


	3. Unwanted Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone visits Merlin's house who he would really rather not see...

Merlin bid his father adieu as he set off for the fair that night. 

He had managed to finish the carving in time and he was packed and ready to go within hours after Merlin had helped him fix it. The trip would take a few days, which meant that Merlin would have the house all to himself. He was excited to spend the days in peaceful quiet, reading and re-reading his favorite book, a cup of warm tea on the endtable, snuggled into the couch, a fire crackling in front of him.

It sounded like a dream to him. Unfortunately, other plans were arranged for him, and the next afternoon there was a knock at the door. Merlin didn’t want to get up from his comfortable position, but he forced himself to walk to the door. He looked through a peephole to see who it was. Valiant stood proudly on his front steps wearing a ridiculous red tailcoat with gold buttons. Merlin wanted to gag. 

He opened the door slightly enough to just peek his head out. 

“Hello!” he greeted cheerfully. “Can I help you?”

Valiant pushed the door open further, inviting himself in. Merlin stumbled back from the force and rolled his eyes, but Valiant didn’t notice. His back was turned to him, examining Merlin’s shabby house with a look of distinct disgust. 

“Um… is there anything I can do for you?” Merlin repeated, feeling uncomfortable keeping Valiant in his house for long.

Valiant turned around and faced him, a gleeful gleam in his eye that made Merlin’s stomach drop. 

“Ah, Merlin! Today is your lucky day!” Valiant picked up a small wooden carving of a dragon and turned it over in his hands, then threw it in the air and caught it.

Merlin flinched, “Please don’t do that, that was a gift my father made for me.”

Valiant ignored him and persisted. “This is the day your dreams come true!”

Merlin moved forward, following Valiant to the small table he had placed his book on when he had gone to answer the door.

“What do you know about my dreams?” Merlin questioned.

“Plenty! Picture this…” Valiant kicked his feet up on the table and right onto his book. The mud from the bottom of his boots seeped onto the pages, and Merlin recoiled. He tried to nonchalantly slide his book out from underneath his feet, but Valiant didn’t seem to notice as he slid his shoes off using his toes and let the boots topple to the floor. “A rustic hunting lodge… my latest kill roasting on the fire… and my little _wife_ massaging my feet.”

Merlin froze and glanced at Valiant quickly before looking to his dirty feet. He smiled out of nerves, but his mind was working a mile a minute.

“...While the little ones will play on the floor with the dogs!” Valiant finished ecstatically. 

He stood up and leaned towards Merlin. Merlin had just enough time to snatch his book off the table and try to wipe the stains off his pages before Valiant’s face was inches away from his own and he had to bend backwards as far as he could to avoid the stench of the man’s breath. 

“We’ll have six or seven,” he smiled.

“Dogs?” Merlin asked innocently.

“No! Boys! Adopted, obviously,” Valiant laughed incredulously, “Strong ones like me!”

“Imagine that,” Merlin felt sweat drip down the back of his neck, and he hastily retreated to the other side of the room, working on salvaging his book. 

“Do you know who that little wife will be?” Valiant pressed, gaining on Merlin. 

Merlin’s mind was buzzing, screaming for him to abort, but all he did was put the book in the bookshelf with shaking hands and stupidly respond, “Let me think…”

He turned around and Valiant was right behind him. He pressed Merlin into the corner and leaned in so close that he could feel his breath on his face. 

“ _You_ , Merlin,” Valiant whispered.

“Oh, Valiant!” Merling ducked under his arms and slid underneath him. “I-I’m speechless!” 

He feigned flattery as he backed into the front door. He feared what any other reaction would procure. 

“I really… don’t know what to say!”

“Say you’ll marry me then,” Valiant pressed up against Merlin just like he had a few moments ago. 

“I’m really sorry, Valiant,” Merlin panicked when Valiant closed his eyes and began leaning towards him, puckering up his lips… “But… but…”

He quickly reached for the doorknob and found it after only a moment. He twisted it. 

“I’m afraid I just don’t deserve you!”

Centimeters before Valiant could kiss him, Merlin leaned back and the door swung open. He held on tight to the doorknob and shuffled his feet back quickly, managing to stay upright. Valiant, on the other hand, lost his balance and with a great yelp, stumbled all the way down the porch steps. Merlin contained a laugh and instead smiled broadly as he waved goodbye to his unwanted visitor. 

One glance up, however, and he noticed that there were others in his front yard as well. Gilli was there, obviously, but so were at least twenty other people, including those gorgeous triplets in town who were head over heels for Valiant. He could have had any of them, or all three perhaps if he asked, yet he opted for Merlin. He had no idea why.

Merlin slammed the door closed and his face was tinted pink. Had Valiant arranged a celebration for when he said ‘yes’? There were men with instruments ready to play and flowers were everywhere. He slumped onto his sofa in distress. What a pig! Valiant was so full of himself that he actually expected Merlin would say yes. They had absolutely nothing in common!

Suddenly he remembered Valiant’s boots that were still laying underneath his dining table. He quickly scampered to retrieve them and opened his front door just enough so that he could stick his arm out and chuck the shoes out of his house before they gave Valiant an excuse to come back in. 

He heard muffled cursing and quickly slammed the door shut again. His heart was pounding and he slid to the floor, leaning against the door and trying to listen to the conversation outside. It was muffled and hushed, but he could distinctly make out Valiant yelling, “I _will_ have Merlin for my wife, make no mistake about that!”

Merlin closed his eyes and breathed deeply, fighting off the fear that would do him no good. He would figure something out. Balinor would help him devise a plan when he got back. Surely, he would be on his side. He could not think of a worse fate than being cursed to live by the side of Valiant for the rest of his life.

He waited until he could no longer hear the voices outside before he dared to peek outside his door.

“Is he gone?” he asked, mostly to himself. No one seemed to be in sight. Growing bolder, he took a full step outside, then noticed the chickens perched on the stone wall of his porch, surrounding a pail of feed. It was around feeding time for them, so he grabbed the pail and moved to the back of the house, where they kept the pen that the chickens and goats lived in. Since his father regrettably did not make much money off of his carvings, they earned some money selling them or their goods, or eating them for themselves. 

“Can you imagine?” Merlin asked angrily to the animals, which were probably the closest to friends that he had. They were only interested in him throwing handfuls of food at them, however, so it was a pretty dismal relationship they shared. “The _wife_ of that boorish… brainless…!”

Merlin threw another handful of feed to the ground maybe a little too harshly. “Seriously! He called me his _wife_! I am not a _wife_!”

He placed the pail on top of a barrel, resisting the urge to slam it. 

“Mister Valiant? Is that what I would be called?”

He looked around at the chickens and goats, but they gave no reply. 

“Can’t you just see it? Mister Valiant… his little _wife_ …” he said in a mock-tone, then sniggered to himself. 

“No way, not me!” Merlin left the animals to their eating and locked the pen, moving further behind his house. “I guarantee it!” 

The back of his house presented an enormous, open space that he could see for miles. It was breath-taking, and he loved wandering the grassy fields and gazing upon the far-off river to help him think. It was also a great reading spot.

The sun was setting, and Merlin raised his arms as the winds picked up, bending the tall grass and the dandelions beneath him. It felt so good to be out here, it was the only place where he truly felt free.

Free from society, free from expectations, free from the wandering gaze of a certain interested huntsman…

Merlin sighed, trying to forget about that for now. He whooped as the winds blew harder, his voice muffled by the rustling of the trees overhead and the rushing of the wind in his ears. He wanted adventure. He wanted this, but somewhere different every day. He wanted to be carried off into the lands of his books and he wanted to stay there. He wanted to go somewhere he could be accepted for his magic and not have to hide it. He and his father already had to escape his beloved hometown of Ealdor… he doubted he would ever find a true place he could call home.

Merlin collapsed into the grass and let the sensations of the outdoors sweep him into a daydream of better times to come. He lied on his stomach, gazing at the expanse of grass in front of him. Idly, he picked a dandelion from the ground and swirled it in his fingers. 

_I wish… I could find someone who understood me. Who accepted me. I want so much more that they’ve got planned._

Pushing back the thoughts that told him what he was doing was childish, Merlin blew on the dandelion. And with that, the wind carried the seeds across the field along with his unspoken plea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin will meet soon...
> 
> EDIT: I clarified that Valliant meant ADOPTED sons since it seemed to bother everyone.


	4. The Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balinor is missing. Merlin searches for him.

After the sun had set that day, Merlin was back inside his cottage and curled up with his book when he heard a whinny come from outside. He wondered briefly if his father had returned yet, but it was far too early. The neighing of a horse persisted however, so he walked to the window and peeked out into the dark.

He furrowed his brows. It was their horse alright, carrying their wagon, but he did not see Balinor. Curious, he walked outside and pet the muzzle of the worried horse, attempting to calm it.

“Kilgharrah! Please, steady…” he whispered, and the horse stopped whinnying and bobbing its head. “Where is father?”

The horse did not reply, he only snorted and jerked his head in the direction that he had come, almost as if he were trying to tell Merlin something. Merlin unhitched the wagon from the horse and jumped on its back. “Take me to him, Kilgharrah!”

He snapped the reins and the horse sprung to action. He galloped into the woods, going as fast as his legs could carry him, and Merlin’s heart was beating equally fast. What had happened to his father? Worry let his mind wander to all the possibilities--he was a strong warlock once upon a time, but he had gotten old and his magic was a bit worse for the wear. It had the tendency to backfire on him as of late and if he had tried to cast a spell on his journey and it exploded in his face… it could have frightened Kilgharrah and caused Balinor to topple off the wagon.

Or… these woods were known for being infested with packs of wolves. Traveling at night could be very dangerous. Balinor was an old man, defenseless…

Tears pricked at Merlin’s eyes, but he would not let them fall. Not now, not until he knew for certain. He did not want to come to horrible presumptions, so he just let himself ride and see where Kilgharrah took him.

Merlin definitely did not expect to be led to a castle, however.

He was not led the castle right away. In a dark, ominous part of the woods, Kilgharrah had abruptly stopped and jumped around, clearly anxious. Merlin dismounted him there and urged him to settle. Looking around, he saw no sign of Balinor anywhere. He may have wandered off… tried to find his own way back home…

In his searching, Merlin spotted something in the shadows not too far off and he jogged towards it. It was unmistakably his father’s hat. He picked it up and observed it. Perhaps if he followed in the same direction, he would eventually find his father…

It was a better theory than nothing, so he went with it, leaving Kilgharrah to find his own way back home. He was a smarter horse than most, and Merlin knew he could do it. He had already done it the first time. 

Merlin did not need to walk far before he stumbled upon a great castle. The forest had opened up into a clearing, and when he looked up he saw the looming stone walls covered in moss under the dark, cloudy sky. It had begun to lightly rain, and the very air seemed to weep at the desolation of the seemingly abandoned castle.

Merlin realized with a jolt that this must be the castle that the whole town talked about. He remembered hearing about how people go in and they never come out… But surely that was just a myth? Nobody lived in the castle anymore. 

His father might have sought reprieve from the growing storm inside. The air was cold, and the wind bit at Merlin’s skin and caused his fingers, ears, and nose to grow numb. It was possible his father, much more vulnerable to the elements in his old age, could be hiding inside the castle. Merlin needed to go and see for himself. He would not allow himself to give up the search in fear of some silly ghost story.

A big, rusty gate stood before the castle, and it was halfway open, which could have signified that someone had entered recently. He slipped past it, walked down the cobbled pathway and up the marble steps. Like the gate, the door was just slightly ajar. Merlin took a deep breath and curled his fingers around the knob. He opened it just enough to let his body squeeze past. It was heavier than he thought, and it made a horrible squeaking noise that echoed through the great halls of the castle and set Merlin’s nerves on end. 

The whole castle was absolutely, eerily silent.

“Hello?” Merlin called timidly, then louder: “Hello? Is anyone here? Father?”

Continued silence. 

Mustering up bravery, Merlin took a step further inside, then another, then another. He walked down a grandiose but completely unlit hallway that led to an elaborate staircase covered in red carpet. He could barely see a thing, but he was surprised that the castle was not more dusty than it was. It had been abandoned for years, yet it looked like it had just been scrubbed clean last week.

That was an unsettling thought, and one that Merlin did not focus on for long. He called his father’s name out once again, but still no reply. He wandered up the staircase, hoping to see his father soon so he could quickly leave the mysterious castle. 

It was getting too dark to even bother to continue looking when Merlin noticed a dim light out of the corner of his eye. He spun around and, sure enough, a flickering light was visible behind a wall all the way at the other end of the hallway. Merlin rushed to it, hoping to see his father on the other side, but he was puzzled when all he found was another empty hallway. The light was gone.

Merlin looked all around him, confused. The light may have been dim, but it was unmistakably there. Where had it gone?

A loud, creaking noise echoed further down the hall that made Merlin nearly jump out of his boots. 

“Father?” he called out instinctually.

No reply. He approached the source of the noise. In the darkness he could barely see three feet in front of his face but as he got closer he realized the sound had come from a heavy, wooden door that had a square, barred window at the top of it. It was slightly ajar and its hinges looked rusty. That had to be it.

Merlin stood in front of it hesitantly. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Merlin?” a small voice called back from inside the room.

“Father!” Merlin rushed inside to see his father sitting inside a cramped cell. He kneeled down in front of the bars and stuck his hands through so that he could hold his father’s hands. They were ice cold.

“How did you find me?” Balinor asked weakly. 

Merlin ignored him, panicking. “You’re hands are like ice! We have to get you out of here.”

Merlin looked around frantically for a key, but of course there was none. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on a spell that would get his father out. He could not think when his brain was as scrambled as it was now.

“No, Merlin! You must leave!” Balinor interrupted his thoughts, pushing him away through the bars.

“What? No!” Merlin was confused. “Who did this to you?”

He thought the place was abandoned. If his father was trapped, however, someone must have been inside the castle to put him there. Which meant… the thought made Merlin shiver.

“No time to explain!” Balinor insisted. “Just go… now!”

“I won’t leave you!” Merlin shouted.

Suddenly, Merlin felt something grab his shoulder and he was yanked around so that he faced away from his father and into the darkness. He fell back against the bars and stared up in shock at a large silhouette. He could not make out any features, but it looked too massive to be a human. The only thing separating Merlin from the large silhouette was a beam of moonlight that shone through a hole in the ceiling.

“What are you doing here?” an inhuman snarl ripped from the throat of the silhouette.

Merlin jumped at the menacing sound and his brain worked at rapid speed, trying to focus on conjuring up a spell to get him out of his situation. However, nothing in his dull life had ever prepared him for such an encounter, and he was at a loss.

Merlin vaguely heard his father yell at him to run through the drumming in his ears, but he felt it was too late for that.

“Who are you?” he asked instead.

“I am the master of this castle,” the silhouette responded.

The master of the castle? That didn’t make sense to Merlin. Hadn’t the castle been abandoned for years? 

Merlin did not dwell on it. “I’m only here for my father. Can you please let him out?”

“He trespassed on my property,” was the only reply.

“I’m sorry, but he meant no harm! Please, he can’t stay here!” Merlin begged.

The silhouette did not reply, only huffed angrily. Merlin did not know who was there, but he hoped that whoever it was could be persuaded. He was angry, Merlin could tell. And quite a prat for locking up an old man for nothing more than entering his apparently not-so abandoned castle to seek warmth. 

Balinor was getting sick here, and he could die if he stayed there. Merlin was young, though. And his magic was stronger. If only he could stay long enough to calm his mind, he could come up with a spell that would help him escape.

He hoped.

“Wait!” Merlin shouted. “Take me instead!”

The silhouette was silent, and seemed to mull over the possibility. He felt himself being scrutinized, and he fidgeted in discomfort. 

“You? You… would take his place?” the silhouette asked. Gone was the impatience and the animalistic growling. Instead, he sounded unsure, hesitant… hopeful? He almost sounded human.

Merlin considered his options. He did not really want to be the silhouette’s prisoner, but he saw no other options. And he most certainly was not leaving his father here to rot. Behind him, Balinor was protesting, but Merlin knew that he would not last long here. Maybe Merlin wouldn’t either. But he could not live with himself if he let his father stay. 

He wished that he had greater control over his magic. It was strong, of course, and there were many things that he could do instinctually. His father said it was a gift. Magic was something that was learned, although it was illegal now, and Merlin never even opened a textbook. He knew no incantations, but rather he felt the magic swell up inside him and he let it out as easily as exhaling.

But he was not a master until he learned spells, and he knew none. He doubted any of the magic he knew could help him escape, but he needed to believe it would. He needed to, because he had already made up his mind.

“If I stay, will you let him go?” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” the silhouette replied. “But if you do, you cannot escape. You must stay here forever.”

Merlin’s heart pounded. What would happen if he did escape? Would the silhouette come after him? What did he even look like? He was hiding in the shadows. If Merlin was to be the silhouette’s captive for the rest of his life, he at least deserved to know what he looked like.

“Come into the light,” Merlin ordered.

At first, the silhouette did not move. But then, slowly, it shuffled forward, into the beam of light. At first just hesitant feet, then the body followed after.

Looming over Merlin, at least seven feet tall, was a giant _beast_. His head was lifted high and his eyes bore down on Merlin, daring him to scream in fright. He was covered head to toe in fur, but he stood on two, clawed feet. He was dressed in a white, v-neck shirt and black trousers, and he wore a deep red cloak--the color of Camelot. 

Merlin gasped and turned to his father, grasping him through the bars. His eyes must have looked manic because his father stared back at him fearfully.

“Merlin! I won’t let you do this!” he cried, and Merlin remembered why he was here. He would not let his father be killed by the beast.

On shaky legs, he drew himself up and looked directly into the unmistakably human eyes of the beast. They looked hurt, almost… and offended, but those emotions were buried deep within the pride and stubbornness they held and the deep furrow of the eyebrows. 

“You have my word,” Merlin promised.

“Done!” the beast replied hastily, and in one swoop he was at the cell, unlocking the door with a key that was tied around his neck, and the bars swung open. 

He grabbed Balinor by the arm and yanked him out, dragging him across the floor. It was almost like he was trying to hurry before Merlin changed his mind. Balinor struggled against the arm holding him, trying to reach out towards Merlin. 

“Merlin, no! Please, don’t do this! I’m old, I’ve lived my life--”

He was cut off by the beast shoving him out the creaky, wooden door.

“Wait!” Merlin cried, but he was ignored. “Wait!”

The door was slammed shut, echoing in the silence. Merlin was alone. He scrambled into the cell to look out the barred window. From there he saw the beast trudge outside in the storm with his still-struggling father. They seemed to exchange a few words before Balinor was unceremoniously tossed into a palanquin. Merlin jerked back in surprise when the object spurred to life and began to carry away his father on its own.

_Magic._

What was happening in this castle? Merlin felt like he just dove straight into something he did not understand, and he had no idea what was waiting for him. If the palanquin was enchanted, maybe there were other enchanted things in the castle. Magic was illegal, although it had not become illegal until after the events that had taken place in this very castle years ago… when the sorceress Morgana had killed everyone inside of it. Or had she? The beast… whatever it was… almost seemed human. Could it be that he was enchanted too?

Merlin had not noticed that he had been crying. He touched his face. It was damp and his eyes were blurry. 

He was never going to see his father again.

It suddenly hit him, the severity of his situation. He was never going to see his father again, or his home, or his quiet little village that he hated so much. He missed it all now, and wished he was back on his sofa, reading his book by the fire and waiting for his father to come back home from the fair. 

He collapsed on the ground inside of his little cell, a sob tearing from his throat. Self-pity would do him no good, but he had the rest of his life to sit in his tiny cell and mull over things. Crying tonight would do no harm either.

So he leaned over a tiny crate, head in his arms, and he cried.


	5. The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would it be weird if I updated this now?

As the beast walked up the stairs after re-entering his castle, the candelabra was patiently waiting for him at his post.

“Master?” he asked respectfully. 

“What?” the beast snapped, already knowing what his faithful knight was going to say.

“Since the boy is going to be with us for some time… I was thinking you might want to offer him a more comfortable room.” 

The beast turned around and growled at him. 

The candelabra merely shrugged, no longer afraid of his prince’s unsightly form. “Then again, maybe not.”

The beast continued his ascent up the stairs, obviously ignoring the fact that we was heading straight for the prison. He could growl all he wanted, but the candelabra knew that under those claws and that mass of fur, he had a human heart that was hurting and lonely. Years and years of isolation from the outside world and self-reflection have left him with a bruised, but changed heart. He just didn’t know how to react to it without acting tough yet. 

They reached the door that led to the prison and the beast walked inside, leaving his candelabra outside to listen in.

“You didn’t even let me say goodbye. I’ll never see him again.” He heard the boy sniffle behind the door as soon as the beast walked back in. He had obviously just been crying. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye…”

“I’ll… I’ll show you to your room.” The beast tried to sound demanding, but the request obviously meant well and he couldn’t help but slip in a tiny bit of emotion… perhaps guilt. And hope.

“My room?” the boy sounded astonished. “But I thought--”

“You wanna stay in the tower?” the beast snapped impatiently, and the candelabra inwardly cringed at his master’s inability to control his temper. He was supposed to be wooing the boy, not scaring him!

“No,” the boy responded truthfully.

“Then follow me,” the beast sneered, and although it wasn’t much, it was a start. 

They walked out, and the candelabra got a good view of the boy for the first time. Dark hair that contrasted sharply with ivory skin, bright blue eyes that shined with gold flecks in the light, high and prominent cheekbones, and full lips. The candelabra had to admit that he was very beautiful. The beast should show him more courtesy. He guaranteed that the boy had someone dying to marry him back at home.

The beast unceremoniously grabbed the candelabra on his way out as a light source. The candelabra was none too pleased at that, and if he were dealing with anyone else, he probably would have lowered one of his arms and burned the hand off the person. But alas, it was his master and the boy behind him did not yet know of the enchantment on the castle (beyond the fact that it was kept by a giant beast, of course) so he kept completely still, only the way an inanimate object could. 

Minutes passed in silence. The beast dared a look behind him at the boy to see him staring resolutely at the ground, tears welling in his eyes. He looked forward again, acting like he didn’t care, but the candelabra knew that the real reason was because he didn’t know what to do.

So he decided to play matchmaker a little.

“Say something,” he whispered in his master’s ear.

The beast flustered but listened to his trusted knight. He was trying, he knew he had to try to impress the boy, but his social skills were more than rusty. They were rusty even before he had been transformed into a beast.

“I… um… hope you like it here,” he stuttered, then glanced at the candelabra for approval. He subtly nodded and urged him to continue. “The castle is your home now. You can go anywhere you wish…”

The candelabra was so proud. What a courteous host! He was doing so well.

“...except the West Wing.”

And there it was. The candelabra would have groaned if he wasn’t pretending to be lifeless. 

“What’s in the West Wing?” the boy asked innocently.

His master stopped and spun around, startling his poor guest. 

“It’s forbidden!”

After making sure there would be no further questions, the beast continued down the hallway, the boy more reluctant than ever to follow. He reached an ornate set of double doors and pulled them open, revealing a dark but spacious room filled only with a four poster bed, a dresser, and a round table with a tea set resting on it. 

The boy entered with a somewhat awed expression on his face, as if he wasn’t expecting such kind treatment.

“Now, if there’s anything you need, my servants will attend you,” the beast actually managed to say tenderly. 

While the boy was still having a look about, the candelabra nudged his master.

“Dinner!” he whispered. “Invite him to dinner!”

The beast looked slightly panicked. He was a bit rusty in the flirting department, so he mustered up all the courage he could.

“You… you will join me for dinner.”

The boy turned around, looking at the beast with a shocked expression. The candelabra could feel the tenseness rising in his master by the tighter grip around his handle. 

“That is not a request!” bubbled out of his master at the lack of response, and he slammed the door before he could embarrass himself any further. 

“Way to go, Arthur,” the candelabra said sarcastically. “That definitely wooed him.”

“Shut up, Gwaine,” the beast replied.

From the other side of the door, a soft gasping noise was heard.

“Well now you’ve done it,” Gwaine chastised. “Now you’ve made him cry again. Might as well set him free now. At this rate, we’ll be stuck like this forever.”

~~~

Valliant was sitting in front of a fire at a pub in Camelot, mulling over the events of the day. Gilli hurried over to him, holding two beers in his hands.

“Who does he think he is?” he asked his crony, remembering the way Merlin had so rudely declined his offer. “He has tangled with the wrong man! No one says ‘no’ to me!”

“Darn right!” Gilli added unhelpfully.

“Dismissed,” Valliant spewed venomously. “Rejected. Publicly humiliated!”

“Uhh… more beer?” Gilli asked, extending one of the glasses towards him.

Valliant turned away from him. “What for? Nothing helps. I’m disgraced!” 

“Who, you? Never!” Gilli exclaimed. “Valliant, you’ve got to pull yourself together. Every guy here would love to be you! No one is as slick as Valliant!”

“Hmm… I suppose you’re right,” he placed his hand on his chin in thought. 

“I’ll prove it!” Gilli added, and turned around to face the rest of the bar. “Let’s hear it for Valliant!” 

The whole crowd of people erupted into cheers and shouts of, “What a guy!”

Valliant smiled, “Alright, alright.”

Suddenly, the doors burst open and the cold chill of the snow storm seeped into the room.

“Help! Someone help me!” a voice pleaded, and all heads turned to the source.

“Balinor?” an old man across the bar inquired.

“Please! Please I need your help!” Balinor begged. “He’s got him! He’s got him locked in a dungeon!”

“Who?” Gilli asked.

“Merlin! We must go… n-not a minute to lose!” he rambled.

“Woah! Slow down, Balinor,” Valliant stepped forward. “Who’s got Merlin locked in a dungeon?”

“A beast!” Balinor exclaimed. “A horrible, monstrous beast!”

Silence hung over the crowd as his words seeped in, then an echoing laughter erupted. 

“Is it a big beast?” someone mocked.

“Huge!” Balinor replied, unaware of the sarcastic tones in his panic. 

“With a long, ugly snout?” Someone else added, playing along.

“Hideously ugly!” Balinor cried.

“And sharp, cruel fangs?”

“Yes, yes,” Balinor answered, tired of their questions. “Will you help me?”

“All right, old man,” Valliant approached him with a smirk. “We’ll help you out.”

“You will?” Balinor’s eyes lit up. “Oh thank you, thank you!”

The old man was lifted up by a few men and dragged to the door where he was forcibly thrown out of the bar. There were chuckles around the room and a few people went up to pat Valliant on the back for his clever wordplay. He beamed at the attention.

“Crazy old Balinor,” he heard someone say across the bar. “Always good for a laugh.”

His expression dropped and the wheels in his mind began turning. 

“Crazy old Balinor, hm?” he murmured to himself. “Crazy old Balinor…”

Gilli cocked his head at him in confusion. 

“Gilli, I’ve been thinking… that crack-pot, Balinor, is Merlin’s father, and is sanity is debatable. If I want to marry Merlin… I might have just the plan to get my way…” 

Gilli’s eyes widened. Valliant leaned towards him and whispered into his ear. His jaw dropped.

“Would he?” Gilli asked.

Valliant smiled cockily. “Guess.” 

Gilli smiled back, “I get it! Let’s do it!”


	6. Cancelled Dinner Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur tries to host a romantic dinner, but it doesn't go the way he planned. He should really learn to control his temper.

Merlin was interrupted from his crying by a knock at the door. He immediately went quiet, fearing that it was the beast, and walked slowly up to the door.

“Who is it?” he asked fearfully.

“My name is Gwen, sweetie,” came the reply.

Relieved by the warm sounding feminine voice on the other side, Merlin opened the door slightly. When he poked his head out, no one was there. A clanking sound on the floor startled him and he looked down, shocked to find a porcelain tea pot hopping around his feet.

“I thought you might want a spot of tea,” the tea pot, Gwen, actually _spoke._

“But you… uh… but I…” Merlin stuttered in disbelief, stumbling backwards.

His back hit something solid that definitely wasn’t there before, and he spun around. 

“Oof! Careful!” the wardrobe, that had just been on the other side of the room, chided.

Merlin backed into the bed, hoping that wasn’t alive as well, and sank into the mattress, eyes wide and staring at the scene before him: a whole entourage of inanimate objects hopping towards him expectantly. 

“This is impossible,” he breathed. 

“I know it is,” the wardrobe laughed, “but here we are!”

Gwen leaned over on the floor and poured hot tea into the cup by her side while sugar and milk containers poured a bit of their contents in the cup as well. 

“Careful, Mordred! Don’t spill!” Gwen told the cup, which Merlin noticed had a small chip in it.

The cup hopped over to Merlin’s feet, spilling some tea on the way despite the warning, and excitedly bounced up onto Merlin’s hand when he extended it.

“Thank you,” he murmured, taking a sip.

Incredible, the place was magic. He had his suspicions before, but this confirmed it. The beast must have been under some sort of spell, and so were these objects, to make them come alive. This was stronger magic than Merlin had ever heard of, although he hadn’t heard of much magic at all, since it was banned. He wondered if that was why this castle was out in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps the beast was a warlock…

“That was a very brave thing for you to do,” Gwen spoke quietly. 

“We all think so,” the wardrobe piped in.

“But I’ve lost my father…” Merlin put down the cup, his mood returning to sullen. “My dreams… everything…” 

“Cheer up,” Gwen insisted. “Everything will turn out alright in the end!”

Merlin managed a smile. Gwen was really quite nice, even though it was kind of unsettling that she was a tea pot. There was definitely a lot that Merlin had to learn about the castle, but perhaps if most of his company was enjoyable, he could forget about how horrid the beast was…

Gwen suddenly startled. “Oh! Look at me, jabbering on when there’s supper to get on the table! Mordred!”

The cup, Mordred, hopped off of Merlin’s hands and towards Gwen, who was hopping back to the door. 

“Bye!” he shouted before he left, and Merlin was surprised by his child-like voice. 

Merlin wanted to run after them and ask so many questions, but he was blocked by the wardrobe stepping in front of him. 

“Well now, what shall we dress you in for dinner?” she asked, opening her drawers. “Let’s see what I’ve got…” 

She used the handles of the door to rifle through extremely fancy clothes that almost looked like they were designed for royalty. The wood of her frame bent effortlessly as she mimicked the movement of a human. The magic must have prevented it from splintering, just like Gwen and Mordred were able to bend and twist without shattering into a million pieces. 

She pulled out a dark red shirt that laced up the front and black trousers, “Ah! There, you’ll look ravishing in this!”

Merlin backed away as she waved it excitedly in his face. 

“That’s very kind of you,” he said softly, “but I’m not going to dinner.”

The wardrobe gasped. “Oh, but you must!”

Merlin was about to decline again when a small cough turned his attention to the doorway. A miniature grandfather clock stood in front of the partially open doorway. The shock factor was starting to wear on Merlin.

“Dinner… is served,” the clock bowed politely. 

~~~

Arthur anxiously paced back and forth in front of his fireplace as Gwen and Gwaine looked on anxiously from their perch on the table.

“What’s taking so long?” he growled angrily. “I told him to come down. Why isn’t he here yet?” 

“Try to be patient, sire,” Gwen soothed. “The boy lost his father and his freedom all in one day.” 

“Uh, master,” Gwaine piped in. “Have you thought that, perhaps, this boy could be the one to break the spell?”

“Of course I have,” Arthur snarled. “I’m not a fool.”

“Good!” Gwaine cheered. “You fall in love with him, he falls in love with you, and POOF! The spell is broken! We’ll be human again by midnight!” 

“It’s not that easy, Gwaine,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “These things take time!”

“But the rose has already begun to wilt!” Gwaine replied desperately. 

“It’s no use,” Arthur interrupted their argument. “He’s so beautiful and I’m so… well look at me!”

Gwaine shrugged, as if it was no big deal. 

“You must help him see past all that,” Gwen insisted.

“I don’t know how,” Arthur sighed. 

No one had come to the castle in all the time he had been stuck there, and he was out of practice. He used to be a dashing prince, and got whatever he wanted. How was he supposed to woo someone now that he was hideous, with no guarantee that he would get his way? The odds were stacked against him. 

“Well, you can start by making yourself more presentable,” Gwen said sternly. “Straighten up! Try to act more like a gentleman.” 

Arthur looked at her in shock. No one had ever ordered him to do anything before. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and he did as he was told. 

“Ah yes!” Gwaine shouted, realizing that they suddenly had the power to order their master around for once. “When he comes in, give him a dashing smile! Come now, show me the smile!” 

Arthur tugged his lips up in what was supposed to be a smile, but it looked more like a grimace with all sharp teeth gleaming menacingly. 

“But don’t frighten the poor boy!” Gwen cried. 

“Forget the smile,” Gwaine moved on, “Impress him with your wit!”

“But be gentle!” Gwen insisted.

“Shower him with compliments!” Gwaine added.

“But be sincere!”

“And above all…”

Arthur’s head was spinning from trying to take in all the information at once and he was about to interrupt when they both shouted in unison.

“You must control your temper!”

At that moment, the door creaked open, and Arthur snapped into position, standing up as straight and as gentlemanly as he could. 

“Here he is!” Gwaine said excitedly.

Instead, Gaius the clock walked in alone. 

“Good evening, sire.”

Arthur went from nervous to angry in five seconds flat. 

“Where is he?” he growled.

“Well... he’s not coming,” Gaius said tiredly.

Arthur felt his rage boil over.

“WHAT!?”

He burst out of the room, sprinting to the chamber that Merlin was being kept in on all fours. His servants and knights chased after him, trying to calm him down.

“Sire!” Gaius shouted. “Let’s not be hasty!” 

Arthur reached the door and banged on it as loud as he could. 

“I thought I told you to come down for dinner!” he roared. 

“I’m not hungry!” a petulant voice responded from the other side. 

“You’ll come out or… or I’ll break down the door!” Arthur threatened. 

“Master, I could be wrong,” Gwaine said sarcastically. “But that may not be the best way to win the boy’s affections.” 

“Please,” Gaius pleaded. “Attempt to be a gentleman?”

“But he’s being so _difficult,_ ” Arthur seethed through his teeth. 

“Gently, gently…” Gwen prodded.

Arthur’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned back to the door. 

“Will you come down to dinner?” he asked as politely as he could manage. 

“No!”

Arthur jerked his finger towards the door, looking expectantly at the objects on the floor.

“Suave,” Gaius deadpanned. 

Arthur tried again, going for a more formal approach. 

“It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner.” 

Gaius coughed the word “please.”

“...Please,” Arthur added, narrowing his eyes at the clock. 

“No thank you,” Merlin shouted back angrily.

Arthur had enough. “You can’t stay in there forever!”

“Yes I can!” Merlin provoked. 

“Fine!” Arthur reached his limit. “Then go ahead and STARVE!”

The final word was drawn out in a menacing roar, which he hoped scared his annoying guest. There had to be someone else who would come. There was no way he would ever fall in love with such a disrespectful commoner. He turned to his servants and knights on the floor, who all blinked up at him in astonishment.

“If he doesn’t eat with me, he doesn’t eat at all,” he warned before swooping out of the hallway and slamming a door so hard that a piece of the ceiling broke off and fell on Gwaine.

A moment of silence fell over the objects left alone in the hallway.

“Well that didn’t go very well at all, did it?” Gwen asked.

Gaius was not accepting defeat, however. “Gwaine, stand watch at the door and inform me at once if there is the slightest change.” 

Gwaine saluted Gaius, “You can count on me, Captain!” 

Gaius turned to the rest of his companions. 

“Well, I guess we better go downstairs and start cleaning up.”

They all headed back sullenly, leaving Gwaine alone to stand watch. 

~~~

Arthur entered his chamber, violently knocking over clutter and grumbling to himself.

“I ask nicely, but he refuses! What a… what does he want me to do? Beg?”

He picked up a silver hand mirror decorated with ornate patterns. It was a magic mirror, the only gift he was given by Morgana.

“Show me Merlin,” he asked it, and the image swirled until he no longer saw his own face, but a view of Merlin’s room. He was sitting on the bed, talking to someone who had been turned into a wardrobe. She wasn't a servant, but was rather unfortunately staying at the castle at the time Morgana came. She was to perform for Arthur and the King when he returned from his hunting trip. She was quite a talented singer. What was her name again? Helen? 

“The master’s not bad once you get to know him!” Helen insisted through the mirror. “Why don’t you give him a chance?”

“I don’t want to get to know him,” Merlin responded angrily. “I don’t want to have anything to do with him!”

Arthur put down the mirror, seeing enough.

“I’m just fooling myself,” he spoke quietly. “He’ll never see me as anything… but a monster.”

He turned to look at the enchanted rose encased in glass just as another petal fell. There was a pile of fallen petals below it now. It wouldn’t be long now before the curse would be permanent. 

“It’s hopeless.” 

Arthur buried his face in his hands, waiting for the inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am determined to finish this, but I can't promise that it'll be timely. Feedback is lovely!


	7. Be Our Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin sneaks out of his room and discovers something he shouldn't have.

Merlin’s stomach growled.

It was late, and he hoped the beast was asleep by now. He was starving, and maybe if he snuck off to the kitchen, he could find some leftovers from the dinner that he refused. 

He opened the door a crack and looked around. The hall looked empty, so he cautiously stepped outside, wandering down the hall. He was unaware of the candelabra that sat still on a nearby table, silently watching him as he walked by. 

As he reached the kitchen, after a short search, he heard quiet voices. He stood outside of the doorway, at first fearing that it was the beast, but all he heard was voices of the enchanted staff.

“Oh stop your grousing,” he heard the voice of Gwen, the teapot. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”

An unfamiliar voice grumbled, “Well, if you ask me, he was just being stubborn. After all, the master did say ‘please.’”

Anger boiled in the pit of Merlin’s stomach. Stubborn? The beast’s invitation was hardly polite.

Gwen spoke again, “If the master doesn’t learn to control his temper, we’ll never break the–”

Merlin entered at that moment and her eyes went wide, quickly shutting her mouth. All the objects stared up at him and he suddenly felt like an intruder.

“Splendid to see you out and about, monsieur!” the clock cried, and Merlin spun around as the candelabra rushed in, jumping onto a table right next to him. “My name is Gaius, and I am head of this household.”

Gaius leaned over to kiss Merlin’s hand, but the candelabra jumped in front of him and beat him to it. Gaius rolled his eyes, “And this is Gwaine.”

“ _En chante_ ,” Gwaine winked. 

Gaius ignored the candelabra’s antics. “Is there anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable?”

“Well, I am a little hungry…” Merlin admitted.

Suddenly, the whole kitchen burst into activity.

“Did you hear that?” Gwen cried excitedly. “He’s hungry!”

All of the enchanted objects immediately sprung into action, preparing a late dinner for Merlin. He stared in awe at the sheer number of them. His desire to find out more about the castle intensified. 

Gaius looked panicked, trying to stop the preparations, but everyone paid him little heed. Merlin was thankful for that. 

“Remember what the master said!” Gaius reasoned with Gwen.

“Well I’m not about to let the poor boy go hungry!” Gwen insisted. 

“Alright fine… a glass of water and some bread, then send him right back up to his room,” Gaius settled.

Gwaine approached him and swung his arm around Gaius. “Gaius, I’m surprised at you! He’s our guest, not our prisoner. Let’s make him feel welcome.” 

Gaius did not look impressed as they led Merlin to an extravagant dining table. Merlin sat on it slowly, afraid to touch anything in fear of ruining it. He had never seen such lavish dinnerware in his life.

“Just try to keep it down,” Gaius pleaded. “If the master finds out, it’ll be our necks.”

“Of course, of course.” Gwaine agreed. “But what is dinner without a little music?”

Merlin laughed as Gwaine began to badly serenade him as his food was brought out. There was so much, it was fit for a feast of at least hundred people. He tasted a little bit of everything, and it was all incredible. He could never finish it all though, and soon he was full. He hasn’t felt this satisfied after a meal in his entire life, and it felt amazing. 

As he ate, Gwaine explained to him that the castle had been empty except for the staff and their master for almost five years, and how they have been rusting and bored out of their minds, just waiting for something to do. And somehow, Merlin had given them something to look forward to, although he didn’t see how he was much help. But when he looked at them, they seemed… hopeful for something. He felt as if they were expecting him to save them. From what? Their master? Probably. Merlin didn’t know how he could help with that, though.

His magic. He was going to use his magic to escape. Maybe he could help them as well. He was so engulfed in his fear of being trapped that he hadn’t sought out an escape plan yet. Maybe tonight, while the beast was asleep, he could make his move. But the castle was so grand, he needed to find the exit first.

Gaius interrupted his thoughts, “Oh would you look at the time! It’s late, you should be off to bed now.”

Merlin panicked. “I can’t go to bed now! I want to explore… this is my first time in an enchanted castle!”

“Enchanted!” Gaius startled, “who said it was enchanted? Gwaine, it was you, wasn’t it?”

“I, um… figured it out for myself,” Merlin chuckled. “I’d like to look around, if that’s alright.”

“Would you like a tour?” Gwaine asked excitedly.

“Wait, now I’m not sure if this is a very good idea. You know, because…” Gaius whispered something in Gwaine’s ear and Gwaine dismissed it.

“It’ll be fine! Stop worrying,” Gwaine insisted.

“You could come with us,” Merlin suggested. “I’m sure you know everything about this castle.”

Gaius puffed out his chest. “Well actually, yes I do.”

~~~

Merlin traveled down a dimly lit hallway lined with suits of armor. He was trailed by Gwaine the candelabra, Gaius the clock, and a footstool who had been introduced as Lancelot. It was a lot of take in, but Merlin was very fascinated. He wondered if this would be the kind of place where he would be welcomed as a warlock. It seemed almost like a sanctuary for enchanted objects… or perhaps a prison. He couldn’t decipher the situation quite yet. And it seemed they were all keeping secrets from him, which only prompted him to poke around more. 

“Now, if I may draw your attention to the flying buttresses above the–monsieur?” Gaius piped up as Merlin approached a grand staircase. 

Gaius and the other enchanted objects quickly ran in front of him, blocking his path. 

“What’s up there?” Merlin asked.

“Up there?” Gaius tried to sound nonchalant. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing interesting in the West Wing. Dusty, dull, very boring.”

‘West Wing’ rang with familiarity. It was the one part of the castle the beast said was forbidden. Another secret… Merlin’s mind was buzzing with possibilities. He easily stepped past the objects in his way. The beast was asleep, he just wanted to peek. 

“I wonder what he’s hiding up there,” Merlin said aloud. 

“Hiding? Nothing!” Gwaine shouted up to him as they all struggled to move as fast as him.

Merlin looked back at him to quirk an eyebrow. “Then it wouldn’t be forbidden.” 

He continued up the steps. 

“Perhaps you would be more interested in the exquisite tapestries dating back to–”

“Maybe later,” Merlin interrupted Gaius.

“The gardens, or the library perhaps?” Gwaine tried.

Merlin stopped. “You have a library?”

“Oh yes! Indeed!” Gaius exclaimed. 

Merlin’s interests were piqued, but he continued up the stairs. Everyone was acting so suspicious and it only fueled his curiosity.

The enchanted objects panicked, trying to win him over with their description of the library, but it was too late, he was already approaching the top step.

At the top of the stairs was a hallway with absolutely no light. He could only dimly see the dusty and empty space through the glow of Gwaine’s fire. On one wall was a shattered mirror, and Merlin looked at it with concern, then continued on. The only other thing in the hallway was a door on the opposite side. Taking a deep breath, Merlin pulled it open. 

The room was nothing like Merlin expected. It was dark, yet again, and absolutely trashed. There was so much junk in there that Merlin had to maneuver carefully. He accidentally knocked over a table, and he gasped, his eyes glowing gold as it stopped in it’s tracks, freezing in midair. He carefully placed it upright again, looking at the doorway. No one had seen, that was good. He kept going, staring in confusion and shock at his surroundings. He wondered why the beast wanted to keep this place forbidden. Was he embarrassed of the mess?

He approached a torn up painting on the wall, which sent shivers up his spine. The whole room did seem very eerie. It seemed to be a portrait, but Merlin couldn’t make the whole face out. He lifted up some of the shreds and placed them back where they fit, and it created the picture of a handsome man with golden hair and a serious expression. Merlin wondered who he was.

He turned around and his eye was immediately drawn to a pinkish glow coming from the other side of the room. He walked over to it carefully and noticed that it seemed to be a floating rose resting in a bell jar. Merlin was mesmerized. Magic was obviously involved with this object, it was pulsing with it, and Merlin could feel it. He needed to know more about it, so he removed the bell jar and the rose stayed in place, floating in midair. It seemed to sparkle, but its beauty was diminished by it’s wilting appearance. Many petals lay around it and it only had a few left. Merlin wondered if he could restore it. He reached his hand toward it, feeling the magic swell underneath his fingertips.

Before he could touch it, a shadow fell over him and he spun around. The beast was standing behind him and he looked furious, slamming the jar back over the rose before Merlin could even comprehend what was happening. 

“Why did you come here!?” the beast shouted.

“I’m sorry!” Merlin gasped, backing away.

“I told you never to come here!” the beast only raised his voice, fury in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean any harm!” Merlin insisted, cringing in fear.

“Do you realize what you could have done?” the beast began to thrash at the furniture around him, and Merlin ducked, just barely missing being hit by it. 

“Please! Stop! I’m sorry!” Merlin begged.

“Get out!” the beast roared. “GET OUT!”

Merlin turned and fled the room. Well, he wanted to escape, and he took this as his invitation. He ran past the enchanted objects on the staircase, and they shouted to him in alarm, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop at the bottom of the stairs, or at the end of the hallway. He didn’t stop running until he found the large double doors that led to the outside world. He burst through them, vaguely realizing that it had started snowing, and still didn’t stop despite the chill. He ran deep within the forest, not stopping until he felt he was at a safe distance from the castle.


End file.
